Arthurus: Search For Origin
by LadyOfBlu
Summary: Arthur and the Round Table have been the inspiration for countless stories and the conspirators for the greatest miracles known to man's imagination. But has anyone ever asked who the knights really are? What if they aren't really knights? And who ever said they were all human? Shadaze,Knuxade,JetWave,Sonally/Sonamy,Knightfic Humanoid/Gijinkafic 1st Installment
1. NamesNotice

**Because of the nature of this story, I need to contribute a list of names that take the place of regulars:**

* * *

**Arthur/"King Arthur"/"King of the Wind"/"Knight of the Wind"**: Sonic the Hedgehog(Human)

**Guinevere/"Lady Acorn"**:Sally Acorn(Human)

**Percival/"Woman of Flames"/"Lady of the Holy Grail"/"Guardian of the Holy Grail"/"Knight of the Holy Grail"/"Dame Percival"/"The Second Stone"/"Sire Percival"**: Blaze the Cat(Mixblood: Vampire)

**Lancelot/"The Ultimate Knight"/"The Ultimate Judgement"/"The Great Pillar"/"The Guard Hound"**:Shadow the Hedgehog(Vampire)

**Gawain/"Knight of the Emerald"/"The Forceful"/"The Third Pillar"**: Knuckles the Echidna(Mixblood/Human)

**Galahad/"Knight of Purity"/"The Shining Stone"**: Silver the Hedgehog(Psychic/Minor Oracle)

**Lamorak/"The Knight of Pride"/"Knight of the Hawk"**: Jet the Hawk(Mixblood:Siren)

**Nimue/"Lady of the Lake"**: Amy Rose(Sorceress:White)

**Angelica/"Lady Vanity"**: Rouge the Bat(Succubus)

**Miles Crawford/"The Blacksmith"**: Tails the Fox(Human)

**Petunia/ "Lady Primrose":**Cosmo the Seedrian(Forest Nymph)

**Calypso/"Banshee Oracle"/"Oracle of Nocturnia"/"Lady of Prophecy"**:Shade the Echidna(Mixblood:Major Oracle)

OC List:

**Riocard/"Oracle of the Holy Grail"/"Beholder of the Holy Grail"**:Galahad's Brother(Psychic/Major Oracle)

* * *

**Remember,in no way is this story completely correspondent with Arthurian Legend. I've created a supernatural twist, and at times it may be very subtle and other times not.**

**I'm going to thank VentZX for thier wonderful reminder: and I promise I wasn't trying to be disrespectful in any way. **

**This is also a humanoid fanfic, gotta use your imagination!**

**thank you...**

~Blu


	2. Descent

**The heart of man is pure; it bears no prejudice toward any other living thing that crawleth the Earth. The love of man illuminates this Earth with warmth that is unrivaled by any other...**

**As knights, and as humans, we must remember that not only as humans but Christians that we keep in the path of that radiance. We must keep in the path of his Holy radiance, our heavenly father. The actions of men who do not follow the path of radiance are the scrutiny of our jobs. The people who have turned their heads toward the darkness, those are the people we must work to extinguish. As a knight you swear never to betray the side of good, and never to betray the people that you love. There is a purpose in every man.**

_**-Lady Primrose**_

* * *

In the planes in the rural of the kingdom of Arthurus there were two people.

If we closer approached these two people, we'd see that there is something very specific about them. At immediate approach you'd hear a lot of things. The regular conversation would have speech or even a few words being exchanged. No, the only conversation that was being exchanged was the conversation of resonating metal. There were sharp clashes of metal, each blow like a paint stroke in the sky and each with its own signature. Music formed by the blows of iron (among other metals) was all that rung in the air, other than lone pants and yells.

Amongst all of this chaos, being the real central of it all were 2 people. On being a woman, and another being a man. The man was tall and well built, the muscles in his arms were slightly pronounced and his stature gave him a slender demeanor. You could tell that he worked and trained a lot, the proof lying inside his rock callused hands and his build (wasn't overkill… but still they are still muscles after all). He was a good-looking man; his face was angular, but not plane-over-plane angles. He was so good-looking that you wouldn't expect him to be in a position of high authority, and a knight no less. His hair was very long, reaching below his waist and sparing a small 7 inches. It was raven black with red highlights throughout the palette of his tresses. It was a marvel to see.

The woman was of a more slender nature, she was like a snake, slender yet muscular, she was beautiful as well and probably the only woman you'd see doing this. She had long lilac colored locks, so long that there would be a substantial amount dragging in the grass if it weren't in a high pony-tail (she was smart if you hadn't figured it out on your own…). She was struggling a little bit more than the man when it came to trying to keep up with the swipes, though _still_ very good.

Finally the fight came to a point where the woman's sword got knocked out of her hand. She went to look right back at the man, holding his sword with a smirk on his face. "You backed up in a corner?"

The woman looked back at him with a challenging look, "Oh not _yet_." She kicked the blade to the side, the man was alarmed by this and while he was the woman took advantage of this, and she ran to the behind of him and got him into a hold. When the man had collected himself… he found that he couldn't move in the hold he was in.

"I walked right into that… Good job Percival you've improved," the man forfeited his sword. The woman behind him smiled and let him go, knowing that he _let_ her win; she knew he could easily take her down. He was the "Ultimate Knight" after all. No one gains such a title without some work.

"You let me win," she followed while he stuck his sword back in the sheath.

Lancelot was silent.

"I decided to try and make a few methods of escaping that problem, but I didn't know that could be a possible way of going about that," she added, "I didn't think that would surprise you that way."

"Even I can get surprised." The man sighed, "You're lucky you're a Cavalier. Otherwise, I would probably of caught you earlier, you're really fast is the problem." He holds out his hand, and he nods slowly, "May I see your sword"

Percival passes it gingerly, "Surely Lancelot…"

The man takes the sword, surveying it with a careful eye; he finds very few things wrong about it. Although, he is ignoring the fact that it feels foreign to him. "You might need a good tune-up."

"I'm quite aware of that Lancelot," the woman said, "haven't taken it to the blacksmith in a long while."

"You should. Although I'm ignoring that it feels like a toothpick to me, it's weighted more on one side than another. Said lightly, your blade's just a little uneven."

Percival looks at the sword, and she cocks her head to the side to get a better look. "I'm afraid that I might need to get a rock to it."

"A rock?"

Percival sat on the ground and placed the sword across her lap so she could observe it better. "I don't like using the mill on my sword. The last time I did, it ate right through my sword like a piece of grass."

"It 'ate' through your sword?"

"You know how slender this thing is. Taking it to a mill isn't the option I like to take unless it's a dire thing. Sometime like if I don't cut it down, I might threaten the quality of my swordsmanship. Besides, I'm quite used to taking a rock to it anyway; I can connect to my sword better. I'm not claiming to be an expert, but I think you may understand what I mean," she added, "I can feel the metal under the cloth. You know."

"I see, well take it to him anyway. I don't trust anyone else with my own,"

"You take quite a liking? Isn't that _something_," she said. It was an unusual sardonic tone for Percival, and Lancelot strangely didn't take that very offensively. He knew it was something that she only displayed towards her familiars. And Lancelot and Percival knew each other for so long that they knew what boundaries they could cross and whatnot. "I guess Miles knows exactly what he's doing if you trust him that much."

Lancelot was silent, which Percival had interpreted as a dismissive gesture. Lancelot only put his sword back into the sheath, they were about to depart this location. Percival knew his body language all too well.

"We are leaving very soon?"

"Quite. Be sure to have yourself free tonight."

Percival sighed, "Tell me not of what is happening tonight. I'm already quite saddened by it."

Lancelot only started walking; he made a gesture to Percival signaling her to "come hither." Percival took the chance, and she started trailing Lancelot.

"I know too well Percival, but it's only a matter of business if its business at all."

Percival only looked at Lancelot dejectedly, "I think Arthur himself is very aware of my opinion on these pointless parties."

Lancelot shrugged, "I'm not very sure they're completely pointless. But we could always discuss this later on. Right now we need to report back to Camelot or King Arthur and much of our guard may start to speculate about us."

Percival made a brief laugh, and she only said, "HAH! Are we truly anything to speculate about?"

Lancelot thought about that for a moment and he only decided to turn and walk away. Percival decided to silently trail him, the conversation is now over.

For the next few minutes that they shared neither Lancelot nor Percival said not even one word. The walk back was always silent, as both Percival and Lancelot were people of a few words. If you asked them something they would answer but use any more energy to try to make any more conversation. Percival and Lancelot also weren't people who started conversation, Lancelot being the worst of the two. Both of these factors contributed in a 10-minute silence.

It took a little bit to finally arrive back at Camelot and even more time than usual to make it to the knight's den. The knight's den was in the almost strategic center of Camelot and it served as a place for all the Knights of the Round Table to change, train, diplomat, and to serve paper duty if necessary. Lancelot and Percival arrived here to watch over all the knights and complete their own personal duties. They needed to refill resources too.

Sure enough, as always, Lancelot's predictions were correct. The knights were set off by the sight of both of them together.

"Well, isn't my big sister having the time of her life?" Lamorak jeered.

"Silence Lamorak." Percival added, "Mock me will you?"

"You know I can't _resist_ dear sister."

Lamorak was the most immature out of the group, and at the least extreme the most arrogant. Lamorak was easily angered and highly temperamental, a sheer contrast to his sister Percival. He was the man that ran into situations without thinking, the man that would run into the cave and expect not to have the fire breathing beast waiting for him. Most people would think that having Percival as a sibling would make whatever came out the same root just about as manner able and polite as the fruit before it. But at the same time, people could understand the sheer difference.

Lamorak was tall, about the same height as Percival which was maybe a 6 to 6 and 2 inches. His hair was a blinding green, like the reflecting light on the forest on a summer day. His eyes were accentuated by a flaring red, which just like both of the siblings was a reminder of their forging by fire. And just like Percival, his skin was no tanner than a white sheet of paper. Lamorak unlike his sister, was a man of average features, but his personality somewhat made up that kind of "disadvantage."

Gawain begins laughing seemingly out of his control, "Lancelot! Where has the prude I know gone?"

"You're the best one to be talking about being prude," Galahad chuckles sarcastically.

Everyone who knew the name "Gawain" knew that the word "prude" would follow, but wouldn't mention it around him because it was about the equivalent of an imploded skull. "HAH very funny Galahad."

Gawain like Lamorak was arrogant, but only mildly. He unlike Lamorak was very virtuous and very well-grounded. However, it was well overshadowed by 2 great and horrible flaws. His gullible and hotheaded personality. Gawain, like Lamorak, was one that would run into the cave. However, if you provoke Gawain enough, not only will he run into the cave but he'll drag you beaten along with him. Gawain although virtuous and very well educated, would beat a man up if given any reason.

Gawain was more built than Lancelot, and only maybe 2 inches shorter. Instead of being tall and slender. He had a more stronger gait and he was a more stronger demeanor. He had red hair, which got him teased inside the knight's hierarchy, but he was left alone(at least relatively about it). His long red hair reached past his shoulder blades, but it wasn't nearly as long as Lancelot's or Galahad's. Gawain was tanner than most because of his runs and trainings out in the sun, but he had this strange cresent shaped scar on his chest that would be recognizable as a defining trait. Gawain had more than average features, and disregarding his hotheadedness would've been visited alot more often.

"Don't you go trying to deny it. Its about as true as the red in your hair," Lamorak teased. "What were you two doing anyway?"

Percival shrugged, showing a pretty apparent disinterest, "We trained as always. Why Lamorak?"

Lamorak seemed alarmed, "I was just seeing that my sister was alright."

"You truly don't know how bad you sound right now," Percival winced.

"Percival… remember that it could a lot worse," Gawain said.

The group noticed that Lancelot was watching the entire time and it becomes immediately silent. Lancelot only looks back at them with an unusually sullen look; this makes them a little concerned until Lancelot opens his mouth. "Nobody has ever told anyone about how knights sound like high school girls have they? If the public heard what you were saying they would be most likely mortified."

All of the knights laughed, except for Percival, who was the only one in the group who happened to be a woman. The group continued to laugh in fact until Percival decided to clear her throat out. Suddenly, after that it became immediately silent.

Percival looks at all of them with an almost insulted look. "I hope you know that you just degraded yourselves in front of the only woman on the force."

"Oh we didn't even notice. I apologize Percival."

Lamorak looks at Percival playfully, "Besides you act like such a man you're probably the only one with real _manhood_ around this place."

Everyone is silent except for Lamorak who's laughing so hard that he didn't notice the poisonous glare that every man there was giving him. Percival noticed this and she tried to nudge Lamorak, but he proved to be too stupor with glee to even understand the situation he was in.

_Well then suit yourself_, Percival thought.

"I mean god wouldn't all of you agree…" Lamorak freezes.

Lancelot pulls out his sword again, "Oh truly Lamorak you want to test that theory?"

Lamorak backs up a little bit, a weird gesture coming from the brute, "Heh! Hey can we at least talk this through? I mean.."

"Not when you insult my likes like that. How about I get a couple licks on you so I can blow off a little bit of my steam."

Galahad even drew out his sword, the purest out of every one of them. "How about you turn around and this'll be over with."

"Do that and I swear that I won't be proved to be the only woman here in about 5 seconds," this was Percival's way of saying 'back off.' No one, not even _Lancelot_ would be brave enough to challenge that, everyone knew she was strong enough to take them all at once. "You hit him you're spitting on me understand?"

"Oh fine," Gawain cooled off a little, "the only reason we're not ripping his follicles is that you're his sister. I guess that's enough of a reason."

Percival lets out a deep breath and slaps Lamorak on the face, "Be a little bit more _sensilble_!"  
"Sensible? I don't know the word," Lamorak mocked Percival.

Percival exhaled, Lancelot only observed silently, "Hn."

All the knights suddenly turned to Lancelot. Lancelot looked back disinterested but he does say one thing:

"I hope every one of you is ready for the banquet tonight, King Arthur has requested that every single one of you to be present," Lancelot added, "that includes you Galahad."

Galahad seems to grunt, "I guess its only fair. I cant get anything done if Percival doesn't travel with me."

Percival shrugs, "I have a life outside being on search of the Holy Grail."

Galahad only pouted a little bit, "Well isn't that a shame."

"Galahad we both know that I could take you down, don't provoke me to prove it."

The knights stepped back a little bit, Percival still seemed quite agitated.

"Why are you so mad Percival?" Gawain said.

Percival looks back at Gawain, "I think that Arthur is quite aware of my opinion on these banquets. I think that he gets too much glee from seeing me suffer in there."

"Oh is that so? Why would he like to see you in pain?"

Percival shrugs again, "Ever since I started training him a better swordsman he's always had this fixation on me."

"I think he likes messing with you," Lamorak sighs, "we all find it amusing."

Percival looks at the all of them, this time her eyes glinting with a madness that is unlike any other the knights have seen in their lives. Gawain stumbles back and Galahad jumps back.

"YOU DARE THINK THAT'S _AMUSING_?"

"RUNRUNRUNRUNRNRURNURURNURNUN RUNRURNUNRUNUNRUNRUNURNURNUG URURGRUGRUGRURGURGURURURURUG RUGRURRUNRUNRURNURNURNRUNRUN !" Galahad and Gawain ran hand in hand, making sure that they didn't look at Percival.

Percival and everyone who was left looked at their escape with a confused look. This perplexed the lot of them and they decided to leave where they stood. And continue on from where they left off.

* * *

**Alright do tell me what you think about this 1st chapter! It would be much appreciated!**

**~Blu**


	3. Preparation

**What is it that motivates us? What is it that captivates us? What is it that moves us?**

**What is it that makes us cry? What is it that makes us happy? What is it that we want to protect?**

**What is it that you want to protect?**

**What is it that we love?**

**What is it that we all want to protect?**

_**-Lady Primrose**_

* * *

"So then," Lancelot coughed, "shall we continue on?"

Percival turned to see him, "I think that may be the best thing to do right now. The banquet is in less than 4 hours, if we can be anything we can be prepared."

"How can you possibly be prepared for one of the Wind King's Parties?"

"Lamorak I have my methods that is something you learned from day one."

Percival walked into the large complex and as she went in both Lamorak's and Lancelot's eyes locked before they could see her completely disappear in. They kept their eyes locked before mutually deciding to follow her. So then they both did, and the hallway full of scrambling men suddenly became especially clear at the sight of Lancelot (not to mention Percival, but that wasn't the men's focuses). They were still walking down the quite long hallway and while they were walking:

"What do we have on our hands?"

"What do we have on our hands?" Lancelot asked, "Percival is angry. At least the last time that I saw."

"Oh I applaud you for noticing that," and he truly was. Although the sentence being drenched with a horrendous sarcasm, Lamorak wouldn't deny that. Lamorak knew that she was a little put off at the least, "Why don't we buy you a cake?"

Lancelot huffed angrily, "Tch…Cynical as ever?"

"Look who's talking?" Lamorak waved his hand figuratively, "At least you said something. Its maybe the only remotely nice thing you've said to me for a long time. At least today."

"Isn't that a signal?" Lancelot decided to silence, if he talked anymore to Lamorak he might spill something. He liked himself alone with his thoughts, it was clear and no one was there to ever—

"Lancelot DAH-LING ," Lamorak chorused, "lighten up will ya'? You're choking me up."

Lancelot was beginning to become annoyed by Lamorak, but both could agree that they were immensely happy when they came upon the sight of Percival. And this time around, Percival was busy trying to get her armor off of her shoulders. Both Lamorak and Lancelot saw her in only some very large black pants and and even bigger black simple shirt. Now she was polishing her armor, and Lamorak and Lancelot picked that up faster than automatically when her large and great compacted box was rumbling with tools banging in it.

Her armor was quite elaborate, it took at least an hour to get a good polishing job on it. Each little corner had an engraving on it; each had a golden ridge or border that took even more time to clean than the actual planes. While Percival had elaborate silver armor, Lancelot had black relatively simple armor. It truly varies on the person wearing it, Percival made her own... while Lancelot had it commissioned. It was something strange.

"Well, looks like you finally decided to catch up?"

Lancelot maddens, "Catch up? And who's doing the catching?"

Percival only chuckled, "Nothing Lancelot. I was checking to see if you were listening."

"Percival, no means to try and make you feel weird... But you're way out of character."

It was true, Percival would've been silent the entire time had she not started a conversation. On a good day she might look at Lamorak and not say anything. Percival was a little happier than usual and Lancelot wanted to investigate.

"Are you excited about something?"

Percival nodded, "In fact I am." Percival stopped polishing for a moment, "I'm glad to know that an honorable guest and a possible recruit will be joining us this evening."

"Great!" Lamorak sits down, "Who is he?"

Both Lancelot and Percival looked at him like he was missing something, like he wasn't thinking. Lancelot decided to correct him, "I'm afraid the person that she's referring to is actually a woman."

Lamorak became predictably dumbfounded, "Wait... woman?"

"Yes you got your answer," Percival added, "I mean come on... isn't that even remotely exciting?"

"Sure," Lancelot said indifferently, "but I have to see the extent of her ability before getting excited for anything."

She couldn't say anything to include on his statement, it was so bluntly strait forward. Like a knife through butter, slightly cruel, but cutting you softly. Percival decided to only continue to polish her armor seemingly obliviously.

"Not that I could expect anything else from you Lancelot," Percival smiled, "you are Lancelot after all."

Lancelot darkly chuckled, "Lancelot? I am Lancelot? Are you trying to talk to me as if I'm some kind of seperate species?"

"Sometimes I do wonder."

Lancelot shrugged, "Well we all wonder about you Percival."

"Oh really why?"

"As if you don't know. You are the 'man trapped in a woman's body.' At least that's what I hear among our group."

"Well... that's quite bizarre. And somehwat... disturbing."

Lancelot had stood up and put his helmet on 2 wooden spokes on the parallel side of the room. It clattered a little, but it was a large peace of truncated and layered metal, it _shall _clatter. Lancelot turned over to Percival and Lamorak,

"So then... what have you heard about this woman? I know you are much more competent than that."

Percival paused, and she chuckled, as her shoulders shook slightly. She looked up at Lancelot with a cocky glint, "Oh! Is that so? Well then...

This woman is some one of high position from Nocturnia. Although she was booted off, apparently they found no use for her. She worked as the psychic in their land, and perhaps they might of moved on. I would of collected more information about it, had they not been so clandestine and secretive. I still have yet to find any more details, the lack of information that I was able to dig is pretty ominous."

Lancelot right eyebrow spiked up, an expression that was used when he found something unusual. Rightfully so, because Percival was one of the best scouts on the entire Table.

"Is that so? Well. The more the merrier I suppose?"

Percival seemed to agree, "We're most likely going to meet her tonight. Since the banquet's happening its maybe the best time for her to come to the kingdom. Expect her, I heard that she is quite the woman."

Lancelot seemed to instantly darken, Lamorak noticed this and his throat seemed to jump up. Lancelot's eyes became immediately sad, maybe because Percival had pulled some unknown and mysterious trigger that easily spiraled him into another fit. Lamorak tried to say something, "Hey... Lancelot-"

Lancelot only stood up, and before Percival could even **question** the situation, he was already outside the door. Percival heard a large clatter of his helmet on the floor, some of the bolts even sputtered out and this alarmed her.

"What just happened?"

"I don' know! _Psshhht!_ Why you asking me?!" Lamorak crossed his arms over his arms over his chest, and this concerned Percival to no end. Lamorak was never quiet, he was never so cake to a point where Percival finally had to break the silence because of how uncomfortable she felt about the situation.

"Lamo-"

"Look it was nothing. You know how strange he is. How am I supposed to know."

Percival hoped it was "nothing" because it honestly blew a hole through her stomach. And conspicuously it became a lot more grim than regular. Lamorak looked at Percival and because he was shrouded in all this negative energy, he was suffering just about as much as Percival. Lamorak and negative and depressing energy weren't a couple made in heaven.

"HO PERCIVAL," he slapped her on the back coursely, "why so down? Did you get your days or something? Sheesh cut it out you're scaring me near death."

Percival understood the Lamorak was trying to lighten up the mood, she recognized his effort, and for that she put her hand on his. "Thank you Lamorak. Too kind of you."

"Cut it out, I'm your brother. That's what we're for."

And then, a silence seemed to descend upon the 2. This made everything uncomfortable, every time their eyes adjusted, it only added even more measures of tantalizing slivers of pain to add to the situation. Lamorak and Percival at this time were holding their breath together because they both thought it might cure the horrible suffocating atmosphere. And thank the gods they were saved, by 2 people who stumbled into the room with perfect timing.

"Hey...*huff**huff*. What are you 2 doing?"

Galahad breathed heavily, and appeared both mentally physically and mentally exhausted. But even in this condition was doing far better than his accompaniment, Gawain, he who was already collapsed on the floor. Galahad however, was dirty. His silver hair was now matted with mud and sweat. Galahad's tan skin had become din with the dust that Percival was assuming he was trampling in. His skin had been rubbed raw in some places, and his cheek had become brazed brown. His armor, which Percival noted, was worn. So horribly worn, that in fact, Percival had inwardly snapped because of the condition of his armor.

Galahad, if anyone knew him, would kill himself before presenting himself this way in public. Galahad was a 1st impression is everything man, one wrong day could ruin you. So for safe comparison as Gawain was prude: Galahad was pure.

"Pure" meaning many things in this kind of context. And how pure he was couldn't even be compared with any earthly thing because he was said to be the purest knight out of all knights. So pure, that in fact, people said that one day Lancelot would be robbed of his title.

Galahad was an average man however: an average man, with an average position, and average features. One thing that amazed people, was his glittering reputation. But past that, he was about as mistakable as another stranger that you might meet on the street.

The knights had adopted him a new name, "Poor Soul." Why, might you ask.

Percival and Galahad were partners, they were accompanied with each other as a unit. They were a duo. One was never seen without the other, even when they were it raised more than enough questions.

When a person stands Galahad and Percival next to each other, they begin comparing features. When that happens, one is greater than the other. The greater, of course, is Percival. And when a complete stranger saw this, they would automatically get the notion that Galahad probably fell over his heels. Proceeding, When the stranger saw that their relationship was platonic, or asked the altitude of their relationship, they assumed that Galahad was dealt a bad hand. And In truth, compared to Percival, he might even look a little bit more unattractive than before.

The words "friend zone" didn't exist at the current time, but the context of the words were still none the less completely valid.

He was the poorest soul.

"Galahad...please explain why your... Armor is so..."

"Percival, you remember us running form you right? We were running from you, and since we passed right by the lake, we decided since we were already there we should train," Galahad nervously explained.

"We were planning to go out the later on in the day. It actually worked out quite well for us."

"I mean what did you think we-"

"Could you kindly explain why your armor is so dirty?" Percival snapped.

* * *

"OH! AGH! Careful up there! Don't pull it out."

The women above the other worked at a fast pace, seemingly not receiving the message of the other woman's pleas. She was pulling tiny strands of the other woman's hair in painful positions, and experiencing it a thousand times herself, was almost numb to whatever pleads the other woman below made. "Don't move too much dear. I'll make it much worse."

The rose haired woman seemed to squirm _even_ more. Her hair was being pulled out and dug into like needles into tight rubber. "What are you even doing?"

"Making you pretty."

"I know that but-"

"The extensions and the dye are going to be done setting soon, they're almost done. They're burning now, but I'm going to tell you its well worth the pain," the woman stopped working with the rosy locks, "besides Nimue! You're getting it for free!"

The Lady of the Lake smiled sarcastically, even when she was in that much pain, "You're experimenting is _why_."

"I'm an artist, you gotta try and fail! Don't blame me!"

Indeed so, Vanity was the best beauty and cosmetics professional in Arthurus. And conspicuously, her beauty parlor was maybe the best and the most popular in the entire region.

Vanity herself was a voluptuous woman, she was tanned and had the either blondest or whitest hair that anyone had ever seen. (Both of which no one really understood that she acquired.) Vanity was a woman with average features, but her profession allowed her the uncanny ability to manipulate whatever features she had to her advantage. For that reason, she often threw people for a loop. And for this reason, anyone who sat next to her would feel great situational irony.

Disregarding all that, Vanity seems like a very nice woman, yes?

But there was one great problem that overwhelmed anyone's desire to want to even meet her, a problem that she had:

She was a cuckold.

No.. that isn't the right term. "Harlett" or perhaps "Slut" or perhaps other names would better fit the situation. One would think that Vanity would be killed for her 1st account of such behavior for the times had such penalties. In fact, much worse for her are the penalties, in no way did her society spare those of her gender so easily. She should be dead by now? No... for some mysterious reason... no.

However, no matter what anyone said, Arthurus may have been a free nation... but it sure wasn't a safe nation. If Arthurus's people aren't going to send her to her grave then she sure will. The words of other people had sure almost convinced her. And no matter how popular she was she was popular for the wrong reasons. And Nimue was maybe the only real friend that she truly might've had.

Nimue on the other hand was almost the complete opposite of Vanity.

Nimue was hardened, while Vanity was immature and girlish. In no way way Nimue a tom boy, she was just a lot more corporate than Vanity more formal if you will. Nimue was the mentor of the Round Table and constant adviser of King Arthur. Her job wasn't for anyone weak-minded. Nimue was serious, slightly naive, and a senseless mystic. And looking past her position, she was a nice-looking woman.

But like Vanity she had a flaw. Her position and conscience had destroyed any kind of bond that she could've formed with another person. No matter how early that she met them, and this led to a gaping loneliness that she had grow slowly accustomed to. Vanity was the only friend that she had, and keeping their bond strong was hard enough. Her social impact at least on a non-professional level was lower than even honorable mention.

"Alright ladybird, please do see my work."

Nimue had pushed herself out the chair and when she saw herself in the mirror she was no less than surprised.

Her hair was in little pink curls, that longer and longer down became saturated with a darker fushia. There was a fringe in the front of her crown that reached almost before her brow bone. The braid wrapped around the back of her head coiled in loops, while free untamed strands showered down her back. Blowers and beads created ornament decoration, Nimue thought it was perfect and no less. Anyone else would've said the same.

"What do you think?"

"Its," Nimue choked, "perfect... how did you..."

"Lost myself in it ya' know?" Vanity smiled, and she made one more sprinkle of some unknown concoction before putting all her supplies back into their respective cabinets. "We're going to a banquet, so I went all out with the formality."

Nimue was too amazed to think.

"Ah c'mon you're flatterin me too much. Now come! We must go over to the banquet hall... We're ready anywho right?"

"I agree... Let's... hightail it..."

* * *

**Okay a few things to explain...**

**Thank you to my reader: ****VentZX Who told me about something very important.**

_**"**__**I question your decision of changing Percival's title. While Dame is the correct female equivalent for Sir, Sega chose to give her the title of Sir Percival despite the fact that the characters seem to be well aware of her gender. It seems slightly disrespectful..."**_

**Well thank you so much for telling me. See kids, this is why you should always sleep. I spent hour into the night typing and I didn't exactly plan out all the names I typed it out in one go. Things slip and I promise VentZX I wasn't meaning to be disrespectful in any way. In all ways, THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME! **

**I've updated the list, and I will be updating that list as the story goes on, so you never know exactly who the next person is. **

**I hope you guys know who SHADE is... she is one of my favorite characters of all time. She hasn't had much reception but do take time to look her up! I would love it, do tell me about your google adventures!**

**Also! I have a wattpad account! But here's the kick!**

**On wattpad, I can post pictures and other neat things to go along with the story! So the thing that I can do is post pictures of the characters beside the chapters (for help with visualization) if anyone needs it. (I completely transformed the characters... My picture is most likely different from yours is my point so... I hope that this will help somewhat?) Plus you're free to comment!Ill tell you when I start posting chapters on there so you can see extra _tidbits and stuff!  
_**


	4. Arrival of the Oracle

**For later reference:**

**{word}= French/Francais**

**{{word}}= Spanish/Espanol**

**{{{word}}}= Latin**

**Please note that when these people are engaging in these languages, people around them may not know the language. The people in Arthurus speak English, and people who are multilingual aren't very common.**

* * *

**How many people do you know?**

**How many people do you hold close to you? Who are these people? **

**Do you truly know them?**

**If you said yes, you should think again,**

**Because that is the biggest misconception that anyone should even make.**

_**~Lady Primrose**_

* * *

"Oh my! Did I come late! Oh dear me!" Nimue seemed to deflate a little, King Arthur smiled a little bit.

It was easy for someone to think that the banquet was already going on, there were people already filling the chambers. Not even the Round Table had arrived yet. Usually, the Round Table arrived before anyone sometimes even more early than King Arthur himself. It would stress anyone. Poor Nimue was acting the way that anyone would act seeing this sort of situation.

"Some people come early Nimue," Arthur chuckles a little bit, "why so roused?"

"Roused? I… Well what is I came late? Someone probably wouldn't of forgiven me for that. I just was worried that I had missed it."

Arthur smiled and hugged Nimue, which not only surprised Vanity(who received an eyeful) but surprised onlookers. "Thank you, I know you and Guinevere wouldn't miss it for the world."

With that embrace, Nimue left to enter inside. With the passing of Nimue, the Round Table arrived behind her. Arthur lit up as he came eye to eye with the 3 pillars. And when the 3 pillars and the force were at eye's view with the chamber: they were just as startled as Nimue that there were people inside.

"AH! I apologize sire! We must've arrived a few minutes late!"

King Arthur starts laughing, and not just a small chuckle... King Arthur made a laugh that startled his knights enough that even Percival flinched a little. All the knights including the Pillars were very confused, and at this point, Arthur was snorting because of exactly how much he was laughing. This really didn't help make anything easier to see. Percival and Lancelot looked at each other, and made a similar shrug. In fact, Lancelot lifted his faceplate to get a better look at the bizarre situation.

"We're serious?"

"I think so Percival."

Arthur had stopped laughing and he slung his arms around both Percival and Lancelot, "You guys really need to loosen out your britches! You came 20 minutes early, I don't see why you're unhappy about your timing!"

Percival looked at Lancelot, and contrary to what everyone was seeing was actually a little bit nervous. He was a little let down because of his perceived mistake, seeing this she moved herself closer to him. Percival lightly tapped his armor, "Lancelot. If I remember correctly, this is the biggest banquet of the year."

"The biggest?" Lancelot asked.

"Yes, its the banquet where all the nations united with Arthurus all come in town to discuss matters and create laws. It is also the time when people from all nations come to see the sights and the housing that this nation has to offer. Its a regular tourist attraction every year," Gawain said.

Percival and Lancelot nodded. "So then that's why there are people here before we are. That makes sense at least," Lancelot shrugged.

"Lancelot! Percival! Lighten up! We just got done with the battle in Wales! You must be extremely tired, at least let it go. You should definitely relax."

"Relax? What are you kidding!" Galahad suddenly came up, "We may be done with the mortals! But who knows if they've staged a campaign in Arthurus? What if they've decided to stage an attack just on the day that we have our busiest day of the year? What if they make an uncanny decision to go ahead and strike the very spirit of the city and strike the Wind King and-"

"GALAHAD!" Percival snapped, "Silence yourself! This is no time to be contemplating on old dark alley conspiracies."

Lancelot smirked a little, "Besides, with that judgment you could easily be the person that staging that campaign."

"H-Hey! I couldn't possibly be doing that! All of my time is sucked up by this Round Table that sometimes I can't even sleep during the wee hours in the night!"

"We all know that all too well," Lamorak laughed. Lamorak slowly sneaked behind Percival, "Besides! I don't even think that this precious dame even goes to sleep at all!"

Percival blushed a little, "Well I AM NO DAME! Lamorak..." His name rolling off the tongue like poison, "But I guess really don't go to sleep for my own reasons."

"What are we doing? We're running off of topic. Come now, we need to go into the banquet," Lancelot didn't place his faceplate back. Percival was a little flustered by the comment that Lamorak had made earlier, but she had picked herself up considerably quick when Lancelot had passed her.

"Lamorak, you senseless jeer," Percival sighed.

Lamorak could be seen laughing in the background, all the knights made the same condescending sigh that was routine with the antics of the arrogant jester. Percival thought that she sometimes had just about enough when it came to her brother.

"{Oh my... Sometimes I really do wonder}," she thought aloud.

"Alright force, let's move in."

And soon enough, the knights had moved into the chambers. They had all moved in a pretty consistent stream, 2 thirds of the group had passed in without any problem. When Percival and the 3 pillars had closed the group they were stopped.

No not "stopped" per say, more interrupted. Because both Lancelot and Gawain could easily of evaded such an interruption. No instead King Arthur had done something else. When Percival came to walk through the door, Arthur had retracted her faceplate. Percival was suddenly surprised by this and actually stumbled a little bit when she had halted herself.

"King? What are you-"

"Don't question it, just keep it in its position."

Percival put it back down, this obviously was an act of resistance on her part. Arthur took a moment to feel miffed and then brashly slid the piece of metal until its screws almost seemed to stretch.

"ALRIGHT! Alright King... I was just playing with you."

"By god Percival! You really must be something," Arthur stressed a chuckle, "you know... Percival. You should really let people see your face, it is a banquet after all."

Percival shrugged it off as another useless thought, but then she thought about it, and it finally clicked.

King Arthur was trying to suggest something a little bit more than just putting her visor up.

"King? What is it you're trying to suggest?"

"I'm just saying that people need to see your face sometimes."

"And?"

"{Learn what you want from it}."

Percival said nothing after that, she saw that he wasn't going to include anymore on it(his neck was in danger after all). She nodded as curtly as she could and passed by King Arthur, making sure she didn't say a word. Lancelot and Gawain were somewhat intrigued by this, but they ignored that feeling as they soon began to follow her.

"That escalated pretty quickly," Galahad said, "Percival? Are you okay?"

"{Oooooooooooooo... Someday...maybe sooomeday... I'll be able to beat your royal +++ in a sparring match and beat the-}}."

Lancelot's eye's opened a little, as he saw Percival balling up her fist and steam almost whistling between her eardrums. Galahad, Gawain and Lamorak didn't know what she was saying(except Lamorak who maybe would know if he wasn't busy flirting), see they were fortunate. Lancelot, on the other hand, was gifted with the ability to speak and comprehend fluent French. So while she was using words that even the holy ghost isn't allowed to use, gifted(poor) Lancelot knew every single profane thought that she was grumbling. _Time for you to step in Lancelot_.

"Sire."

"{Oh the NERVE...}."

"Percival."

Percival was still quite unresponsive.

"{Percival!}"

Lancelot put his hand on her shoulder and nudged her gently. Percival finally had her attention diverted back to reality. Poor Percival felt a little embarrassed, but that was the price for her actions. Lancelot nodded, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, I was just thinking a lot."

"mmm," Lancelot grunted, "you were thinking and not speaking in the lord's good English. Some _thinking _you were doing there Percival."

"Suddenly sarcastic now are we?" Percival laughed, "Alright. I can live with that."

Lancelot was already walking away, so he heard Percival trailing off and growing distant. Percival was used to this kind of thing. Lancelot would always saunter himself into servitude in big public social gatherings such as this one. Percival would do the same, but unlike Lancelot, people actually tried to talk to her. They weren't as intimidated from talking to Percival as they might have been with Lancelot. Lancelot intimidated everyone but maybe Percival and Arthur, not any random civilian would just up and open a conversation with the fellow. He was a _scary_ man.

Percival would join up with Gawain, because a lot of times Galahad was preoccupied with the people there. Since Galahad was busy, Gawain was the next candidate, and thank god Gawain was usually alone.

She rustled next to Gawain. "Greetings."

"Hello there," Gawain replied grimly.

"Whoa! Are you okay?"

"Of course," Gawain said. Percival was surprised at his tone. Usually, Gawain would be very happy right now. In fact, there was almost no second that Gawain didn't have some cheeky grin on his face. He went everywhere, even into battle with his goofy little grin taking up his entire face. His happiness was the joy hat lit up the Round Table on its lowest days. He was the spark enshrouded in the dark, if something put him out there was something most definitely wrong here.

"Gawain… is there something that rouses you?"

"Rouses me? I'm afraid not… Dampens definitely, but nothing rouses me."

"Oh, care to tell me what it's about?"

"What its about?"

"Yes. Is there anything that I can so to help to remedy it?"

"Remedy it? I'm afraid that you wouldn't be the person who would be able to do so. I don't think it's really your place to do that."

"So keen on keeping me out Gawain?" Percival joked.

"Nah… that's not it. Just a little bit… sad I guess?"

"Is it something you might be willing to discuss?"

"No Percival, I don't think that's very necessary. I think it's just one of those seasonal mood swings."

"You mean like Lancelot's?"

"No, he has them all the time, the only 2 types of swinging I do is with women and my fists," Gawain laughed, "no just kidding."

"HA… Oh I think Lancelot's is looking at us."

Lancelot was indeed sending them a poisonous glare from across the room. Percival could feel that all too familiar shiver on the back of her neck.

"He's _definitely_ glaring."

Lancelot had come over to the both of them, Gawain almost jumped a little when he felt a clamp on his shoulder.

"What did you say about mood swings?" Lancelot said. That tone was well near poisonous, and almost melted Gawain's ear off with its acidic quality.

"I didn't say anything."

"Good… I'll show you mood swings when my fists are down your wind pipe."

"Lancelot, simmer down."

Lancelot seemed somewhat soothed after Percival intervened. This got the attention of Gawain, who started thinking of something suggestive as to explain why he was acting that way. Percival lightly smiled and patted his back, "Why so aggressive?"

"Provocation is enough of a reason Lancelot."

"Don't even say it. We both know if that was the reason you probably would've snapped by now."

At this point, both Percival and Lancelot got delved into a great and quite interesting conversation. Gawain anchored himself even more in his suspicions, a snide smile almost covered his entire lower face. As Percival laughed, Gawain said:

"You 2 lovebirds keep chirping over there, I'm going to get drunk today, at least I'll be happy," Gawain laughed.

"HEY!" Percival caught up to Gawain, "Don't go reeling now. I'm not sure tonight is the best night to be drunk happy."

Gawain seemed quite annoyed by that, in fact he threw his hands and slouched over, "Great! I just wanted to be happy! I can't just-"

"Don't you remember? We have a guest coming over. We can't do that and we all know that."

"Great! Well, I'll at least get buzzed. That'll keep me cheery for about an hour?"

"You know that I'm watching you right?" Lancelot included, "Besides. I'll probably feel like joining you in your endeavor. Besides, who knows what I'll say once I've had a keg or 2?"

Everybody knew that Lancelot was tightly wound, but once you gave him a glass he became a little bit more friendly and lenient. He became a little _too_ friendly as a matter of a fact.

"Sure Lancelot, leave me to deal with 2 crazy and happy drunks. How _considerate_ of you."

Lancelot looked back at Percival, "Sure."

By this time, the three had made themselves over to the bar, where Percival sat herself down before the other 2. Before the other 2 men could even situate themselves, Percival had already ordered the 1st round. Gawain and Lancelot were almost offended, as it almost seemed that the level of their masculinity was questioned.

"Um... Percival."

"Yes Gawain?"

Gawain coughed a little bit, "Why did you get the 1st round?"

"Why did I get the 1st round?"

"Yes," Gawain added, "why exactly?"

"Well, I got here 1st. Isn't that the rule that we live by?"

Indeed, the Round Table's 1st rule to drinking in groups. The 1st person to hit the counter of the bar was the person that was going to have to pay for the very 1st round that he or his group would drink. That was the rule that the men of the Round Table made, except there was one hole in that same rule.

Remember the key words: "men of the Round Table." We have to remember, Percival is a member of the female species.

So does it... apply to her?

"Are you serious Gawain? I was just being kind and sparing my money so that maybe you coul-"

"Percival," Gawain took out a few rings, "take this. I don't think that you would need to pay for it."

Percival growled, this happened almost every time, and it was getting a little annoying at this point. Anytime she made an effort to pay for anything with her own money, or decided to do any kind of hard labor, or was in any situation that would get her dirty in any way, all the men in the Table would volunteer to do it for her. Reminding you, she really didn't even need the help from other people, she was perfectly able to do these jobs on her own. Lancelot was maybe the most respectful in that aspect, but people like Gawain or Galahad hadn't caught on to that even in the time of more than a decade. "Oh no Gawain... I do insist."

Gawain shivered at how those words rolled off the tongue, she sent not only shivers down his back, but he would swear that he would've soiled himself. That tone that she was using was almost literally burned a hole into his ears. Gawain cowered a little bit, he didn't retract his arm faster in his life. Lancelot knew where this was coming from, and he glared at Percival trying his best not to let his eyes become thin milk in his sockets.

"Percival, if this is a matter of respect, than do please pay. But if you asked me than I think that Gawain was just trying to be kind to you. Restraint."

Percival felt ashamed that she acted so vindictive, and she made an apologetic nudge. "I apologize. I was a little out of line."

"No-No fear.. hehe," Gawain said intimidated. Gawain knew that Percival hadn't full forgiven him, which meant that this could again. This meant that if there was another trigger that she kept bottled, then she could explode all at once which came without warning. So he knew that this wasn't the end, it was just a ceasefire. However, it wasn't in Percival's nature to remain mad at someone, no matter what they did. So he was spared after maybe 3 minutes.

"Any who. Who is this woman?"

Percival immediately became happier, "Well. The woman that's coming in is the old oracle for Nocturnia."

"You don't really have much information do you?"

"No, as I said earlier, way too clandestine for my tastes. I couldn't get anything which was weird."

"That is strange."

The round came in, that Gawain had paid for(thank god). After that, the 3 started talking a little bit more. Sometimes with just the 3 of them, and sometimes with other strangers who came from afar to get to meet and see them. Other times it was with people they knew, like the blacksmith, Lady Primrose, or at one point Lady Wave.

The night went well.

But then at the middle of the banquet, a mysterious woman had seated herself next to Gawain. Gawain and Percival had a laugh, and he had noticed the arrival of this woman. Sure enough, when Gawain turned around to see who this woman was...

You see when he saw the woman, the 1st thing that happened was that his entire body tensed up. His eyes became wider than the bottom of the keg he was holding(a good 4 inched of diameter). And the worst of all the things was that the glass in his hand broke.

No excuse me, not the right wording.

His hand tensed up so much that he actually crushed the keg inside his hand. And even seconds after his crushing of the almost inch thick glass in his hand, it was almost as if he didn't feel the pieces of glass embedding itself in his hand. The bartender was enraged by this and turned to Gawain to lecture him on the price of his glassware. But then when the bartender saw that he wasn't getting through to Gawain, he tried to see the woman he thought was accomplice to him. Turns out after that, the bartender had dropped the glass that he was polishing and had about the same reaction as Gawain.

Percival and Lancelot took a little bit longer to catch on, but when they heard the second glass break, they both looked at Gawain. Percival who was closer to Gawain had the great pleasure and useless effort trying to pry the glass out of Gawain's iron fist. Lancelot walked over next to him and tried to shake him out of his daze. Nonetheless, he was just as hopeless in his efforts as Percival.

Neither of them had looked at the woman yet.

They'd probably understand why they were all dazed if they looked at the woman.

"Percival, you have any idea why they're acting this way?"

"Lancelot, look."

Lancelot did as Percival told him, and he wasn't as affected as maybe Gawain, but it still got to him.

"Oh..." Lancelot smirked, "I understand now."

"I apologize, I seem to have this kind of effect on people." The woman said.

"Is that so?" Lancelot extended his hand, "Hello. My name is Lancelot."

The woman laughed, "Oh I know your name Lancelot. As a matter a fact I am very honored and privileged indeed to find you. I am here with business."

The woman was beautiful.

Of course, that was already understood when Gawain crushed the glass in his hand. But it was sheer beauty, much like Percival's.

She was an exotic woman, and relying on the word exotic was almost a sin in her context. She was alien to almost everyone there, it was like she came from another world. It was hard to actually distinguish if she was just exotic or beautiful. One could even come to a conclusion that she was only a sheer mix of the 2.

She was slender, much like Percival, but compared to Percival she was more voluptuous a woman than Percival. And still referring to Percival as a guide, the woman was more vixen and fox-like than Percival was.

The woman was slightly peachy, but still quite pale. Her hair and her eyes were the strangest and the most alluring parts of her. Her eyes were slender and long, again... much like Percival's. However, instead of felinely, her eyes were more like a fox. The eyes of a fox are mysterious, and they are sly and slant in a artful diagonal. Her eye was a model of all those things, except the color. Which was a radiating Lilac and in some spots a hot raspberry. That color everybody knew could never actually occur in nature.

Her hair was a terracotta and dipped in a rich cream at her ends. It reached past her shoulders and came to meet the almost middle of her back. Right now it was arranged in curls, long big and full curls that licked her shoulders when they cascaded down her back and licked her cheeks. One side, her left side was clear, her hair being placed delicately behind her ear.

Her dress was impressive, it being completely made of black lace, and covering all her limbs and half of her long neck. It was a dress that displayed her body in almost all of its honesty, almost every feature was modeled. It wasn't something an exhibitionist would wear, it was formal, elegant, and again very _impressive._

Poor men had _too much_ to stimulate their senses.

"Hello, I'm guessing that you must be our pending recruit," Percival greeted.

"If you would allow me such a pleasure," the woman said casually. Percival sensed a professional air from this woman, and she was already quite pleased to be able to actually meet this woman.

"Wait... this woman is the new one?"

"Yes Gawain."

Gawain was a little dumbfounded, "Excuse me. I'm going to take a breather." Gawain recollected himself and found the nearest disposal. After all, his hand still had glass in it.

"Then," Percival sighed and smiled, "do you care for a conversation?"

"That would be my pleasure."

* * *

**That was a little strange.**

**I had to actually stop writing.**

**I was almost at 4000 words. And that scares me.**

**Well tell me if you think I can go over that much because I might've reached the sensory limit for my readers, there's only so much a person can take ya' know? I feel like I am a little unfinished, but I guess that's the price I have to pay. I have to cut something.  
**

**R&R My beauties! **

**BAI!**

**~Blu**

**Reference for Calypso(shade's) dress**

**Kesha at VIBE magazine:**

** /2012/10/keha-in-isaiah-garza/**


	5. Careful Inquiry

**"What you see may not be what it is, and what you feel may be the law."**

**~Lady Primrose**

* * *

Chapter 4: Careful Inquiry

"So you must be the oracle?"

"Quite yes Sire." The woman shifted a little bit, but she still maintained eye contact with Percival.

Percival was a little bit apprehensive about her, "So then, perhaps we should take this elsewhere."

"No, I don't really think that this is anything that we cant discuss in front of everyone. If its a outstretch of a legal leg then I assure you, I don't sue."

"Now then," Percival coughed, "fine then. I guess it's only fair."

"I think that its fair to ask this question," Galahad cleared his throat, "how do you know all of our names?"

"What kind of psychic could I call myself if I couldn't do such? Besides, I don't really think that there is one person in this country who isn't well informed about each of your roles."

Galahad looked at her strangely, as if she was related to him,"So then... what is your name exactly?"

"Calypso... Calypso Durjless."

"Well, that's quite the name," Lancelot said.

"I don't suppose that Lancelot Etienne Garrison Avantgeline is quite the easiest fragment to say either," Calypso chuckled.

Instantly, everyone saw Lancelot uncomfortable and the suspicious look in his eyes,"Well... that's very interesting."

"Anywho," Percival tried to steer away, noticing Gawain's absence from the congregation, "have you been trained in sword wielding or anything of that sort?"

"I've been trained in stealth combat and other things, but I haven't held sword per se."

Right when Percival was about to vocally note that Gawain wasn't there, out of almost nowhere, Gawain came right before she was about to open her mouth. It seemed what he did when he left worked, because he came collected and with his usual business smile, "Hello, my name's Gawa-"

"She already knows," Galahad joked, "she has an amazing ability of knowing the name of a person the moment that she meets them."

"Oh... well, I've gotten used to that years ago when I met you Galahad. That seems to be an uncanny ability you psychics have,"Gawain defended. When he turned to take away his part of the handshake, he looked to Lancelot and he looked at Percival.

When he looked at Lancelot, he was apprehensive, but a gesture that Percival gave to him had cleared out any very disturbing situations he was thinking of. _Of course_, he thinks, _another flash... I swear the man has bipolar disorder_.

"So then about you combat training..."

"Oh yes," Calypso chuckled, "I've been trained extensively."

"I see... so then, what about any other notable things that you may be able to tell me?"

"Well... I have a variety of 5 to 7 other languages I can speak. And I can manifest my power physically to manipulate object in reality, so essentially I can touch objects."

She didn't get a reaction from anyone.

"Okay, I'll admit that doesn't seem very amazing but, the level of my mastery is actually quite impressive."

"Oh so then, you mind if I see your hand then?"Galahad asked.

"Well... I don't see the harm in it." Calypso said.

Calypso extended her hand into Galahad's grasp. When that was done, Galahad hovered his hand over it and closed his eyes. The knights knew that he was reading her, an occurrence that didn't happen very much. This meant that Galahad felt that this could be a serious pursuit. And that was somewhat rare. Galahad was absorbed, and when he opened his eyes, his mouth gaped. He released her hand and he turned towards Lancelot.

"You must enlist her immediately, no questions," Galahad said.

This put up an immediate red flag, and when Lancelot had red flags lit in his mind, that meant a simple and instinctive command:

"Attack"

So then, Lancelot swung his sword to the left side of her face. People moved and even screamed assured that Lancelot there had just went and set himself loose. Percival herself had thought of ways to avoid hurt in this situation, once Lancelot had done that, she'd scooped Gawain and Galahad out of the way of the stroke. And once that was said and done she went for Lancelot, which she was about sure the only one who could do it.

She was stopped, stopped by Galahad who stopped her hand from making that one easy slide out of the leather sheath she had. She looked at the situation again, and this time it was in a different light.

Calypso wasn't hurt and Lancelot was only smugly smiling.

Calypso had a shield on her arm that radiated a hot pink that was blocking and causing friction with the sword. Sparks were even being made from that friction. And at a loss for words, she was okay. In other words, the woman wasn't scratched at all. And Lancelot was nonetheless somewhat pleased with this resolve.

"Just the way I like them, right on their toes," Lancelot joked.

"Now Sire Lancelot, I don't think this is the right time to make such jokes. That could easily maybe be easily mistaken as an innuendo and we wouldn't need any of that do we?" Calypso sighed.

"SIRE LANCELOT! I did not mean to STRIKE the woman!" Galahad seethed, "THIS IS NO WAY TO GREET THE NEW RECRUIT!"

"What were you doing?" Gawain seethed with Galahad.

"Testing her."

"Make it more obvious next time if you can," Calypso laughed.

"Oh please! Now hush, you knew about it the entire time," Galahad pried the sword away from her arm.

"You may have been right about that," Percival adds.

Calypso pieces herself back together, "What kind of oracle would I be without knowing so."

Lending Calypso a hand, he asked, "Speaking of which," Galahad continued, "how far can you see?"

In Galahad's world, this was a question of mastery. And he himself could only see maybe 100 to 200 years(only maybe 10 or 5 generations), he had taken this practice in somewhat recently compared to others so he expected a large number from Calypso.

"The most I can see is maybe 10 thousand years. The troubling thing is that I don't ever know how far I've seen without a marker so I might be seeing a million years but I might be shooting in the dark. Besides, sometimes, the road is quite blurry."

"'The road is quite blurry?' Why so?" Gawain asks.

"When I stand next to a person to tell their future, in their perspective then its easy. But usually people tend to want to approach things more objectively. They want to know collectively what existences will influence them and the sort of events that will occur whether that person takes action or not.

When a person does that, it creates a hole. This hole is caused by any kind of disturbance that changed the natural course of events. My job creates these holes, if a person is told their destiny, they will spend their entirety avoiding it. Even just my presence causes this hole.

I can see what will happen undoubtedly, but things that are small and on a whim I may sometimes have to guess."

"'Guess'? Tell me then, exactly how blurry can these things be?" Lancelot asks.

"They can be blurry and I can still recognize shapes and events or sometimes it can be like... again, shooting in the dark. I'm usually quite accurate, but... I can be wrong, though it happens rarely. Time is not such a kind thing."

"'Kind'? You may have reached a juxtaposition there," Galahad sighed, "I run into the same problems. But how long have you been doing this for?"

"About my entire life."

"How long has the Nocturnus Empire existed?"

"For as long as 2 millenniums," Calypso said.

"So you could say this art has been in your family..."

"I'm sorry, I don't exactly have a family," Calypso chokes, "the most that I can call family are the mentors and teachers I grew up with."

"Oh..." Percival said.

Calypso neatened the hair behind her ear, "But... Perhaps that story can wait sometime later when I can better explain my abilities through application. How about I become a little more familiar with you."

They'd entered the next to last phase of interrogation. And this phase was Percival's job, any knight who talked at this point only talked to ask questions to further justify or enforce any point that Percival made. Leave the interrogations to Percival, it was like that everytime.

Why was Percival so good at this job?

Because she always found a way to throw people for loops. You see, she was a clever woman, and she used the abilities and feelings of people to make unpredictability. That way, whatever they prepared was thrown out the door and their true and most pure intentions were left exposed. Given, it was a little bit extreme in the least, but it thinned out almost every attack on the inside of the Round Table that could've happened had she not done that.

But it was a little different this time, because this woman could read everything that she was thinking and therefore planning. In fact, she probably had an advantage because of that ability.

_So I need to scramble it, if she can read everything I'm feeling and thinking, I'll have to think of everything but what I am asking her about. Or perhaps ask her the vaguest questions I can think about... Let's see then._

"Percival, Sire, is it natural to think that you may be plotting something as of now?" Calypso asked.

Percival was backed up against the wall, "What do you say?"

"Sire I can hear the gears of your brain from here."

"Calypso, are you reading me right now?"Percival asked.

"Sire Percival I am, but it is not a matter of my controlling it it has become a reflex I am not exactly aware of. Your thoughts are scattering, its almost as if you're trying to tiptoe around my abilities."

"Clever woman," Percival complimented, "but... what makes you think that?"

"You're plotting, you're inquiring my abilities, your thoughts seem to be revolving around everything but what you're asking me, and not to mention your breathing rate increased since the last sentence I just said."

_Clever woman_, Percival thought.

"I know from just this much that if your just like I am, I'll probably be able to better predict what you're thinking than you notice."

Percival's attention was caught, "Is that so? If you're just like me then... explain one thing to me."

"What would that be Sire?"

"Why are you auditioning for the force?"

The woman swallowed, looking as if she had swallowed a large ball, "Well...

It was actually contributed by many things. One of them being my homeland.

As many of you know, I live in Nocturnus, a land that prides itself in technology. As I mentioned earlier, sometimes I mess up predictions and actually make incorrect ones. I lived in a land of 100 percent correctness and that placed high and bonebreaking scrutiny over any mistake you made. So of course, as technology progressed, not only were the old ways such as my art completely discarded... but I was soon discarded as useless.

Once I was, I've been taking 5 years of odd jobs and bankruptcy and trying so hard to stabilize myself."

"What kind of things did you do?" Gawain asked.

"Alot of things, the things I can pull from my head include: Babystting, Waitress, Teacher, beauty salesman, body guard, cosmetologist, fortune teller's assistant,hairdresser... There's too much I tried."

"You said bodyguard, what kind of combat training do you have to give you the qualifications to do so?"

"Over the years I've studied: Nocturus higher arts, Nocturne weaponry, Boxing, Stealth combat, and a few other things."

Percival put her hand up, a gesture of calling to the other knights. But this time, she was tryng to relate to Gawain, seeing as she didn't know the altitude of theses Nocturne Arts this woman seemed to be so well informed of.

"Gawain... exactly what are these "Nocturne Arts?"

Gawain's attention was caught and he started speaking in a low voice, "Nocturne Arts are basically a mixture of Asian and some North and South American martial art forms mixed with their individual culture. Because of this, some trainers actually make the students learn every incfluence, of course meaning each of these different arts and techniques, to be able to harness it to its full potential. While of course having the student reach a very wide range of sources to cultivate themselves with."

"What about the stealth and weaponry?"

"Nocturne weaponry is very highly advanced and their stealth warefare is a great force to be reckoned with. Both of them on thier own are poignant. But combining the 2 together created one of the greatest non-European civilizations of our time."

"I see then," Percival directed this towards Calypso, "You're an oracle. Tell me about it."

"I've been perfecting the art my entire life."

Percival looks to Galahad,then she nodded which gave Galahad permission to speak.

"Impressive, but exactly how long have you lived Miss Durjless?"

"I've been living for 4569 years."

It was silent for a while after that, then Galahad nudged Gawain and said:

"Well Gawain was always into older women."

"Hey! You-... that is _not_ the _TRUTH_!"

Calypso laughed at that, "Oh me... Excuse my intrusion, and excuse the question that's been pressing me but exactly what credentials do you all-"

"Excuse us, I think that will be the end of this interrogation phase. We will conclude this tomorrow, be sure to be here at 3 o'clock come in for physical,"Lancelot rudely interrupted.

This disturbed all who were attending the interrogation, disturbing Percival was a fool's mistake. Not only did he just disturb he but he rudely terminated and interrupted the session.

Percival was not pleased to say in the least.

In fact, she was about to turn to Lancelot and express her annoyance of this issue. But before she could do any of that, she was interrupted by the closeness of Lancelot to herself.

In fact, while she was turned around, she didnt realize that he was as close as to be able to whisper in her ear. The fact that she didnt bump into him was a little strange to take in. The man, while so close, still found a way to push forward even more. This was the closeness that was the same closeness the initiation of a kiss would start up as.

Percival held in her breath,_ What in the_-

"Percival, East wall, we need to talk _now_."

Lancelot then walked off, all of the knights, all of the subjects, everyone staring at him.

_What in the world was that display? _

There was a collective sense of wonder in both the crowd and the knights. Not to mention Percival, but ths was expected.

"I'll be back. Uhm... Disperse." Percival looked back at Calypso, Calypso still grasping the situation that was taking place at the moment. Yet when Percival looked deeper into Calypso's eyes she immediately sensed a strange esoteric understanding of Lancelot that she herself didn't see in herself.

_Now what am I thinking? Barely 5 minutes and I'm worried this woman knows all of us better than we know ourselves? Percival get a grip_, she scratched her head and turned to head towards Lancelot.

Once she plowed through a lot of people and a whole lot more drunk men, Percival finally saw outside again. And when she came out, she noticed the moon was out; it was definitely nightfall now.

She looked towards the left, and about 20 feet from herself was Lancelot, lost completely in thought. And she could tell,

see Lancelot did this thing where he placed his fist directly under his chin. Once he did that, okay he's thinking. But when he seemed to be staring the fear out of an unidentifiable object in the distance, okay you might have to shake him.

Percival started walking towards him, this time, her armor would be loud enough to get him out of this numbing intellectual state.

"Percival, I'm not trusting this woman."

Percival crossed her arms and then walked herself over to stand in front of him, "Why not so?"

"She... doesn't seem all too... _sincere_."

Percival chuckled at that remark, "Oh you're funny Lancelot to be talking about sincerity."

"If I can sense it than that makes more a reason to question her."

Percival mentally rolled her eyes(if she did it in reality her health might be at stake), "Lancelot. i have a feeling maybe your paranoia is driving your mouth right now."

"Perci-"

"No, hell Lancelot, we've barely even given the woman 5 minutes. Let alone 2 minutes to get to know her. You don't have a basis for your feelings, all in the gut is what you're feeling. And my station in the force proves that your gut is pretty unreliable."

Indeed so, and for a good reason. Lancelot to this day even sometimes questioned her.

"Even if she ends up being a little hard to work with in the beginning, I feel that this woman has great resources that we can put to great use and I think she may rise to one of our positions one day."

Lancelot seemed mildly stirred by that, "Why do you think that?"

"A man with a sword is dangerous, but a man with a sword and a brain is almost unstoppable."

Lancelot let that sink in, "Perhaps..."

"We're evaluating her tomorrow anyway. Then you can complain and have your britches in knots. For right now we wait and get acquainted."

"I should take into account that you are never ever wrong about recruits, alright

I'll lay down for now at least," Lancelot got close to Percival, "I only have respect and a high sense of dignity that must be honored from her. But if she slips up once... I wont be as generous as now understood?"

"Whatever floats her boat Lan-ce-lot," Percival sneered.

This made Lancelot almost shoot up inside from the surprise, but outside there was no body movement on his end, "Agreed."

Lancelot walked away and Percival watched him walk the entire way back to into the castle before waiting a minute and following him.

* * *

"So how was work today?" Gawain asks.

Vanity smiled and lightly chuckled, "Somehow crazy as always. But! I think the high of today was when I got to make up Nimue."

Gawain seemed somewhat clueless, but then Vanity laughed again. This time, taking her french tipped pink nails and grabbing Gawain's face in a way that allowed her to control its angle. Once she did that, she scanned for Nimue and turned Gawain's face in that direction.

Of course Gawain was amazed, and he gasped(however not audibly). And he kept staring in that direction until the Lady of The Lake looked about ready to throw her fan at Gawain's head because of the intensity of the staring.

"Its amazing dollface," Gawain took his arm and slinked it around Vanity. A common affectionate gesture on his end.

"Thanks," Vanity shifted towards him and put her head on his shoulder. Gawain decided to hold her hands, since with the position they were in on the edge of a bar table... they might have some limited mobility.

Vanity had a lump in her throat. One that was caused by a topic that she stresses about talking with Gawain about. And this lump prevented her from saying anything about it for almost months now.

But then finally, the woman just had to let it all out.

"Gawain, there's been something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time."

"What is it doll?"

Vanity swallowed, "This place... I grow weary of it."

Immediately Gawain tensed, "Wait...wait... what?"

"I've gotten what I can out of this place and I've been dying for a fresh start, for an entirely clean slate that I can paint for myself..."

Gawain wanted no explanation. The thing that you learn from Vanity is that if you leave her to talk in animosity and continue ranting on, she finds an uncanny way of tiptoeing around the entire point of the topic. She would go from bills, to water, to rivers, to africa and so on so forth. When you started a political conversation it always ended in an obscure topic like the welfare of elephants or perhaps the use of cayenne pepper in household cooking. Unless you asked for it bluntly, you may never get what she was trying to say. "Give to me bluntly doll, what is it you're asking me?"

Vanity looked at him in the eye unfaltered, "If I move, would you be willing to come with me to make a whole new life together?"

Gawain choked, "A-At least give me a chance to think about it doll... its a pretty big decision... when is it-"

"Come now it'll be great, we'll live on the countryside where life is slow and quiet. It'll be one of the greatest decisions of your life."

"I know Vanity, its just that-"

Vanity had suddenly became grim. And Gawain didn't realize what just happened even when he continued with his sentence. Vanity looked at him and she looked as if she were about to hit the man, "You just called me Vanity."

"Wait, doll dont-"

"Too Late," Lancelot said behind him.

By the time Gawain had registered what Lancelot had said Vanity was already at the doorway out into the nearest street. Gawain could hear a distinct cab call in her voice and horse hooves battering on the soft brown clay. It was like a bullet to the heart for Gawain.

"I don't care about what anybody says, I'm pissing myself drunk, this is just unacceptable," Gawain was about to leave. But then he saw Lancelot right in front of him.

"I'll buy you the 1st drink, don't leave just yet." Lancelot in fact flicked a silver coin over to the bartender. He caught it, he was behind the counter in less than5 seconds.

"I don't know why you do it Gawain, it's pointless."

"It went bad for you Lancelot, for all I've been through with her is roses and candy corn."

Lancelot didn't buy it, the fact of the matter of it is, Gawain was telling a huge and utter lie. He'd never seen the man get as drunk so often in his life. Forget the word drunk, utterly and undeniably washed out as he did and so often. Forget a crying man, but if you have a crying drunk out of his mind and confused man you might have a serious issue "Gawain, we all know you're lying to yourself, it's pointless."

"I know Lancelot, there's only one man I know who doesn't understand sarcasm."

Lancelot cleared his throat, "You know moving is a huge move."

"Lancelot, what did I tell you about eavesdropping on my personal conversations?"

"The fact that I could overhear it and walk in on it means that it isn't personal at all."

Gawain sighed, "Thank you anyway. I... I just don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?" Lancelot asked, "You're _always_ sure where your mind is."

Gawain punched Lancelot's arm and laughed, "So perhaps you do understand sarcasm."

"What do you think you should do?"

"I can't move Lancelot, you know I love this place too much."

Lancelot gave Gawain a beer, seeing as it got there only moments ago, "Well then don't."

"But I'm afraid I'll lose Vanity if I do that."

"You know Gawain, you were better without her in the 1st place. I'm afraid that staying here would be a good move for the both of you."

"Why do you say that?"

"You're depressed, if I know anything about relationships then you're supposed to be happy, but you're not. Not to mention that Vanity is a harlett-"

"One time."

"Actually 6 remember, we can name them. I dont know if you understand this, Vanity's a good woman but she's hard to trust. I think that's what you're feeling right now. You don't trust her."

"Of course I do."

"Where is she now?"

Gawain was silent.

"See, you don't." Lancelot drank, "I would be able to have a better chance at telling where she is then you would."

"But then..."

"I know Gawain, I know."

"I didn't even speak."

"That isn't even the point, you know that much Gawain."

Gawain drank out of his keg and stared at Lancelot, Lancelot wasn't looking at him back, so he thought it was unnoticed. At one point, Lancelot looked at him back and was nonetheless wary of why Gawain was staring at him.

"Gawain, why do you have the need to stare at me so intensely."

"It's funny to see your reaction," Gawain laughed.

Lancelot facepalmed, _He's drunk again._

"No I'm just buzzed boyyyy."


	6. End of the Banquet

**"If people were everything you thought they were,**  
**this wouldn't be a very interesting world now would it?"**  
_**~Lady Hetalia**_

* * *

Galahad looked across the crowd, scanning his eyes over. He was looking for anyone that was familiar to him that he could talk to, or anyone he could just stand around with. In his daze, he didn't notice anyone notable not even Lamorak was around cracking his comedy routine. There was a dejected loneliness that swept over him, but for some odd reason it didn't bother him like it should have. But, he wouldn't bite his tongue to say it still would've been nice to have that green haired idiot around to make him laugh.

He looked over to the bar counter, where Lancelot was sitting alone. Something new, and this sight somehow made Galahad excited. Usually, Lancelot would 1st talk with Gawain, then he would find conversation with whatever knight decided to sit next to him(essentially Percival). Then, this would pretty much last throughout the entirety of the night until finally everyone had to go home and sleep. But here he had found Lancelot was finally alone, this meant he could get a conversation alone with Lancelot.  
So, without even analyzing or even attempting to explore whatever reason would cause this excitement, Galahad made his way over to Lancelot's way. So just like Galahad would do, he politely but pretty quickly cut through most of the crowd. He trudged and bumped along with a new renewed sense of purpose.

But before he could get through the crowd, he saw a man bump a woman. That much happened regularly, but what bothered Galahad was that without any sense of chivalry or consideration she fell and the man didn't even pick her up. The woman must've hit the ground hard, because when she did make contact with the ground, he heard a rather loud snap come from the impact. She was too shameful to lift her head at 1st, but when she did Galahad could see tears starting to gather in her eyes. Naturally, yet again, Galahad fell prey to his altruism. So naturally, you could predict what he did next.

He picked up the woman.

Immediately he knew it was a mistake.

This woman smiled and thanked him, what would proceed was something that he abhorred. Something that he would rather skip, but he couldn't.

_Your reputation Galahad, your reputation_.

"Thank you so much sire."

"Its no problem madam," Galahad mustered politely. Oh this was not comfortable at all to Galahad at all.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Galahad Jean-Claude."

"You mean, the Galahad?"

Here we go, Galahad only politely smiled trying to cover up the absolute awkward feeling that was weighing on his chest. Anyone who knew Galahad would know that he needed to get out of that situation really quickly. Because this [so far] delightful encounter, this little nice 1 objective conversation was going to spoil and crash rather fast. And(assuming this woman was an outsider) everyone who lived here long enough knew to steer clear of the afterblast.

"Well, I'm honored."

"Thank you, but I'm sorry to say I have to excu-"

Suddenly, Lamorak came from behind the woman. And the heart in Galahad's chest flipped backwards 4 times, "EY I DONT MEAN TO-"

Both Galahad and the woman were staring at him, while recovering from surprise Lamorak only smiled at Galahad and chuckled, "Who's this fine lady?"

"Oh this is someone I just met by chance encounter," Galahad sent a message to Lamorak in his mind, _Aren't you going a little fast Lamorak?_

Lamorak only laughed, "Im sorry, we have a strange friendship, its moments like these I have to explain myself." Lamorak somehow found a way to shake hands with her, and while Lamorak was doing this... he understood the service that the green haired man was doing him. And for that, Galahad dutifully thanked him.

He watched the both of them start taking, passively agreeing on some point that they occasionally made only being an observer but never contributing anything to the conversation. Galahad waited at least 7 minutes, and gradually they forgot that the man was ever even included in the conversation. Once he noticed that, Galahad found a way to excuse himself, and while he was walking he knew that he surely was indebted to Lamorak. He was really going to pay through the nose one day.

But he could accept that.

But until then, damn that Lamorak.

* * *

Lancelot was alone.

Simple, effective and concisely said.

Gawain had sauntered off somewhere and being completely honest he could care less about his drunk arse right now, there was a god chance that Percival was taking good care of him. Otherwise, he had either miraculously found his way to his chamber or he had found a way to perform a teleporting spell. So for a lack of better words: he really didn't give one right now and he in fact was relishing the peace.

Calypso was somewhere out there, and he didn't care about her, he doesn't resonate well with her. And the feelings that she inspired in his head were really messing with his personal peace. So lightly said: he didn't give one about her either.

He had about 3 conversations, all of which were equally as momentarily interesting:

He had spoken with Lady Hetalia, which was always interesting. She was such a kind and intelligent soul. Everytime he talked with her, he learned something new and at her age that was amazing.

He had talked with King Arthur, who only really asked where Guinevere was and then talked to Lancelot about Percival. Funny, he thought, Percival is always some topic that is conveniently brought up around him. Strange...

Miles had small talk with him, what an inspiring youth he was. Miles had single-handedly made Lancelot hopeful of the next generation.

He was about to order his last beer for the night before he saw Galahad approach from the corner of his eye. And before he could tip the bartender and before he blinked, Galahad had already reached over. And without any of Lancelot's say, paid for both of their tips and beers.

Lancelot immediately tried resisting, but Galahad immediately stopped him.

"No Lancelot put that down, you've already been through enough strain." Galahad said.

"God Galahad, what are you trying to do to me?"

Galahad smiled, "You wont have to pay back Lancelot, I dont care."

He looked at the black-haired man... no rather he STARED at him with a strange smile on his face. He studied each line on his face and all the shades of red that were in the other man's eyes. Each red crimson shade and maroon shade that constructed the shadows. he found it rather interesting, and quite peculiarly fascinating to examine. And then sooner(rather than later) he had already started losing himself in them. The more he looked the more sedated and relaxed he became. And somewhere in Galahad's chest there came a sense of ease.

The butterflies were coming around, and before they could swirl around, Lancelot interjected.

"Galahad."

"Yes?"

"I'm not comfortable with the way that you're staring at me Jean-Claude."

"Oh*ahem*excuse my staring..." Galahad immediately snapped out of it. No matter how intently he was staring, he always felt like he wasn't even staring at the man(when indeed he was).

"Any who Jean-Claude, who was the woman you picked up earlier?"

"What?!" Galahad exclaimed in the heat of unparalleled consternation, "How did you know about that woman?!"

"I am extremely perceptive Galahad, besides, Lamorak makes quite the racket even from across the walls."

Lancelot looked over into the distance, and Galahad being confused looked over to where Lamorak was and he was still(somehow by the work of god) talking to that same woman. Galahad was bewildered, how could he still be talking? Just by picking the woman up, Galahad already felt the need to excavate his digestive tract out with the tip of a frayed toothpick. Galahad had finally understood the unadulterated meaning of loquacious, which now was in use lightly.

"How can he do that?"

"Well he's doing it for you, doesn't mean he isn't enjoying it, but it's still a favor for you."

Galahad was silent while Lancelot took a long draw from his beer.

"Lamorak may be an idiot, but Lamorak isn't a complete ass. He knows people than we ever give him credit for, and he's much more loyal as a friend than many people I've met during my years."

Indeed Lancelot brought up a good point. It brought up a distinct memory in the forefront of Galahad's mind:

Back when King Arthur had just been put onto the throne, and when the knights were being reunited the tension between Arthurus and Wales had begun. The fights were mainly due to looters doing what they do best, stealing from the shipments that came from that very area(and meant for Arthurus). Then, the problems began when Wales started blaming it on Arthurians when they couldn't be more wrong even if they had decided to blame a band of stray house cats. Combined with bad history, and a few unsolved grudges, it was only a matter of a few years. Arthurians and the Welsh started fighting, and sure enough the Round Table had been dragged in.

The day was the day that concluded the tension.

People had started taking advantage of Arthurus being at war: namely rouge supernatural organizations that started attacking Arthurian land in waves. Organizations, little alliances of little campers, dropped and rejected knights, rejected supernatural beings; they all sprung at the chance to call Arthurus their kingdom. And you always smart small: So conspicuously, there began mass destruction to rural villages.

And even if Arthur wasn't a master strategist, he knew that much was going to happen, so he sent Galahad to get as many citizens(Arthurians or not) apprehended out of the situation.

They were in a village called Little Sprigs, and the houses were collapsing on each other in every direction. People streamed out everywhere, innocent blood flooded the dirt roads like fertilizer for the enemy. Sparks were being shot everywhere and the screams of horses rung out in the air and thundering hooves could be heard Farther away from the actual scene. People now even say they could feel the negative,oppressive, demonic energy from that place even now because it was so much it never drained.

Galahad was trying to rescue as many villagers as possible. And the struggle was very difficult seeing as Lamorak was trying to guard him and make sure that he didn't get touched during this entire operation. So Lamorak had his hands tied behind his back whilst fighting men.

Everything was going according to plan, minus a few slight burns and scratches until one instance.

One stray person charged right for Galahad and Lamorak didn't think twice as he got in front of the blow...

He almost died that day,

But when asked why he did it Lamorak only answers that if he hadn't done that both of them could have died.

"You are right about that Lancelot."

"Besides, you 2 are close. The only comparable relationship that comes to mind is Nimue and Vanity."

"Don't compare us to them Lancelot."

"I don't enjoy it either, but that was the relationship that came to mind," Lancelot shrugs, "besides you might as well be brothers you're that close."

Galahad choked.

"I apologize for that last comment I was inconsiderate," Lancelot apologized.

"No its just fine," Galahad said, "I...It is not your fault."

Lancelot immediately felt guilty, "Well we have your back no matter what you understand? And that much far surpasses just comradery Galahad, I'm dead serious. If you need anything we're here for you."

_Yes... thank you_

* * *

Percival had walked back into the banquet hall exhausted. After nursing Gawain into less of a hangover, all she wanted to do was sleep.

She looked around, trying to find Lancelot there was something that she needed to call to his attention.

She started slinking through people and staying close to the wall, running her left hand on it. But it was only a few minutes when suddenly, a hand that grabbed her wrist, and alarmed by this she turned around only to be face to face with the woman.

That _Calypso_.

"Uhm Sire Percival, I just wanted to let you know something."

"Calypso, is this something that I should know right now?"

The woman was still a moment before nodding slowly, "Yes. I might not get another chance."

Percival thought about it for a moment, and then she realized she had at least a moment to spare. So why not? Percival turned towards her, "Please do tell me."

"I hope you don't think I'm condescending you in any way."

_'Condescending'? What is this woman thinking? Why would she think she had any business condescending me? "_No, you're not, it's completely fine."

"Are you sure? Because I feel that I'm ruffling your feathers in some sort of way that's flying over my head."

"Well... I know it's strange but..." Percival thought about opening up to her, but realized that there wasn't anything she could use that Calypso would be able to use(at least in the short-term). "I've known most of these people for more than 10 years, and in an instant, when you meet them you already know them better than I do."

Calypso chuckled, "Percival, I've been living for 4500 years, I've been living with people all my life. It's become easier and easier to read them. But your Lancelot is a little bit more complicated than most, so I'm flattered by you saying that."

"I don't know," Percival held her head with one hand,"I apologize but It was just something that I had to get off of my chest."

The other woman smiles, and nods. But then a question immediately pops into her mind and Calypso looks at her inquisitively, "So then, how old are you?"

"23 years, why?"

"I used to remember that, but now 23 years seems like minutes."

"Minutes?"

"When you get to about 1000 years old, time is just like a really rowdy one-trick pony and by that time you start noticing the beauty of living and not caring about time."

"I see... So then... I suspect you've had more than your daily share of... experiences."

"I suppose that you could say that, but my life really wouldn't be anything interesting to your kind."

"My kind?"

"Well you've been through the wringer yourself haven't you?"

"I think so, since I know myself somewhat well at least"

"To be fair those are the stories that more people need to hear."

"You are right about that."

Calypso looked towards Lancelot, "Percival."

"Yes?"

"Does Lancelot have a problem with my being here?"

Yes actually, quite EXCLUSIVELY. "No he's just doesn't trust people as easily as maybe you do."

"But he doesn't have a serious issue with me right?"

"I don't think so," Percival lied, "he's just not very trusting."

Calypso had suddenly stopped radiating that friendly [presence, "I really appreciate your consideration and I appreciate how you are kind enough to spare my feelings, but it's not the truth Percival."

Percival paused, "Well I can't think of any other immediate reason why he would dislike you."

"You've known him for 10 years as you said, correct?"

"Yes."

"Is he still an enigma to you?"

_He's an enigma to everyone, no one knows him_. Even now, she had barely caught onto the mere idea of the man. He distanced himself and did almost everything he could to not talk to Percival and the others. It was not only oxymoron but also brain numbing to Percival for many reasons. This man himself stated that _he_ was lonely and in the deepest depths of the black hole he called a "heart" he craved and madly desired companionship. He had enlisted to be the leader of the Round Table and that was hard for someone who [previously and quite regularly] treated women _and_ men like rotten fish. But at the same time, he never wanted to engage anyone. He feared other people, he would rather be locked away then to deal with people. It was frustrating, But..That was going to change though, and if Percival wasn't going to change that no one would be able to. Everyone knew that.

Some how in her heart though, somewhere in some unknown place she felt that she understood him better than anyone else did. And that she believed he was getting better.

"Yes," Percival answered concisely.

"I get the sense that you know him better than you realize," Calypso cross-examined.

Percival was extremely uncomfortable, it had been a long time since someone had gotten under her skin... and this was that one instance. Percival looked at Calypso, she felt so... She just shook it off her brain, Percival shrugged, "That's relative."

Calypso seemed intrigued by this, she looked at Percival strangely. It was the quintessential look of apathetic woman, but somewhere she looked amused. Almost like a sociopath would. This troubled Percival beyond reason. But at the same time: that was the look of an intellect.

"I'll meet you again tomorrow."

* * *

**GOD I AM SO SORRY FOR SLOW UPDATES: SKOOL SWAMP TIME**

**I hope it wasn't too rushed, but I had to put something out. I hope there wasn't too much Calypso. Now, the fall is going to start to begin in the next chapter. The real plot is about to begin. **

**Thanks, for reading**

**~BLU**


	7. The First Time in a While

**I just realized that at the beginning, I mix "Lady Hetalia" and "Lady Primrose" together. Which I will now say is the same person in the last chapter that Lancelot said he talked to during the banquet. I'm going to have to update the name's list so then I don't confuse anyone. Sorry about that guys, you can always depend on me to make mistakes like that. **

**I'm going to try to shoot out as many chapters as I can because I'm on break right now and I can.**

**Thanks for the reviews! 2 in a day?! Holy crap you don't know how much that means Im seriously falling out of my chair Im so ecstatic!**

**~The Management**

* * *

**"Dont try looking for gold when its already right under your feet."**

_**-Lady Primrose**_

* * *

Vanity woke up that day in another person's house.

Of course like any person, she was immediately frightened. Assuming the worst case situation, she could've been in someone else's house without knowing whoever this person was. And heightened by not remembering anything, she was scared as a blacked out person would be.

But then, when she looked around, she saw a large (opening) that had fish shooting around and looking back at her. So she was underwater...

_Oh!Crap how stupid can I get? I'm in Nimue's house!_ She slapped herself lightly on the forehead. Vanity looked around.

The space was pretty interesting, and Vanity was often reminded of Primrose's place when she did occasionally sleep over at hers.

Because the Lady of the Lake was indeed one of the lake, she slept submerged under it. Which meant she could hear everything that the lake was connected to, breathed with and flowed across. She breathed with it, she felt its emotions, and in slumber her heartbeat was synchronized with that of the lake. It was somehow overwhelming to people who connect to nature in the way that she did, and it was unimaginable to Vanity how one could be so irrevocable in paramour with nature in that way that Nimue was. But at the same time, Primrose was too, so she wasn't completely mad.

Vanity couldn't live submerged like that. That's why she never stayed in Nimue's house... or... as King Arthur sardonically quoted:"Waterlogged Tree", for more than 3 days and nights.

As Vanity started getting out of the bed, she could hear Nimue walking around the hallway. And soon, he heard her starting to approach the actual bedroom.

"Hey Vanity! Good morning."

Vanity let out her breath, "Oh my god Nimue, you scared me so bad."

"Sorry I was answering the door, you knocked out Vanity."

"Where were you?"

"I was outside trying to house tend..." Nimue thought, "Bridge tend."

"Who was it that came to visit this early?"

"At 12 noon?"

Vanity widened her eyes, "WHAT?! I WAS-" Vanity immediately got down from the bed and she rushed to pull her clothes over her body. She was so unbelievably late, her shop opened and admitted customers at 8 in the morning.

"Vanity... it's Saturday."

Vanity looked at Nimue, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?"

Nimue laughed, "It was funny."

Vanity let out her breath, "Im so happy I knocked out a such a strategic time." Vanity fell back on the bed again. And Nimue silently sat herself next to her.

"So who was it who visited you Nimue?"

Nimue seemed somewhat hesitant to tell Vanity, as she would become too excited to hear the person's name. But she couldn't keep anything from Vanity. Even if it was really harmless and minor as this.

"Lancelot," Nimue replied.

Vanity immediately became awestruck by the idea that Lancelot came around, "Why would he come around?"

"He said he was checking to see if you were okay, because he and Gawain were concerned about where you were and how you were holding."

"Why'd he leave though?"

"Well he said they were testing that oracle that came in yesterday. So he and Gawain were occupied."

"Oh..." Vanity seemed disappointed.

Nimue shrugged, "I mean... I'm surprised that Gawain didn't swing by."

"I wouldn't be either." Vanity said bitterly.

Nimue was immediately alarmed, "Whoa, what are you saying? What did he do to you?"

"He called me Vanity again."

Nimue chuckled, " ... Everyone calls you Vanity Angie, everyone knows you as Vanity and that's something you've accepted. There must've been something else that he did."

Vanity sat up and looked into Nimue's eyes, "I asked him about the move that I've been thinking about for a year."

"Yes."

"And he said no."

Nimue was silent, this was new to her. She knew that Gawain was absolutely, cross-eyed in love with Vanity. So why wouldn't he immediately comply with Vanity's wishes? This raised a few questions in the forefront of her mind. And she had begun to have a very pressing premonition about the red-haired man and Vanity that she couldn't much gradually evolved into a premonition and most of all a sense that this was about to end, and quick.

"What did he say exactly?"

"He said that he needed to think about it and that he loved Arthurus a little too much."

"That does mean no doesn't it?" Nimue sighed, "Well that's nothing less to expect from a man from the Round Table. A man not only loyal to the king, but loyal to the king's land."

"What am I supposed to do Nimue?"

Nimue knew the answer, and it was so blatantly obvious to her but not Angelica herself and Gawain it physically hurt her. It was funny how everyone but the 2 people head deep really knew what was the best for them. Love really changed people as it seemed, and it mentally crippled people. Nimue looked at Vanity and she swallowed, how could she break it easily. She had thought for a moment, and she finally came to answered.

How Angelica answered the next few questions would determine whether or not she announced it:

"Angelica, I want to be as honest as you possibly can."

Vanity nodded.

"Angie, are you having sex with someone else?"

Vanity was silent, but she consented, "Yes I am."

"Is this person more interesting to you than Gawain, emotionally or even just physically."

Vanity had tears beginning to form in her eyes, "Yes... yes he is."

"Then Vanity... when you were thinking about the move... did Gawain know about it?"

"No."

"Do you not feel connected with Gawain anymore?"

Vanity nodded.

Nimue was feeling that pain again, and she put her hands on Vanity's shoulders,

"Look Angie... I think that you and this man... it's not working out."

"Its not... what?"

"Everyone sees you 2, and they immediately know that you 2 just don't have that luster anymore. You just don't seem to be connected anymore..." Nimue sighed, "Look you 2 need to end this farce you 2 are having, it hurts."

Vanity cried, "Why?"

"Look Angie, I doesn't really matter if you act on it or not, but this is your relationship. And... it doesn't..."

Vanity cried.

"All I want is you to be happy, as your friend I'll stand with you the entire time. But this just has to end."

Vanity hugged Nimue, "But I couldn't do that to him..."

Nimue was stopped, because there was another aspect of Gawain that was going completely over her head. "Angelica... you've been doing much worse to Gawain then you seem to realize."

"What have I been doing?"

"Gawain... and Lancelot..." Nimue hesitated a moment, "Gawain is aware that you've been sleeping with other people Angie. And because he knows that, it's stabbing him everytime he thinks of you when you're gone. And so... Perhaps you'd relieve him that way."

"He knows?"

"Lancelot and Percival know too, Vanity _everyone_ knows."

"Is it really like that then? Do people just think that badly about me?"

"Well you are; aren't you?"

Angelica swallowed, "Yes... I guess so."

"Angie, everyone who's heard your nae associates it with the word 'whore.' So imediately they'll associate you with other men. And... It's obvous you're sleeping with someone else."

"I don't think it would be that obvious."

"Well Angelica,"Nimue shifted a little, "unlike what you might think there's obvious signs. You're really happy all the time and you seem happy with that poison, while Gawain is obviously suffering beyond belief. There are a few obvious questions that are begging to be raised at that situation; dont you think?"

Vanity thought for a moment, "I guess so Nimue, I guess so."

Nimue hugged Vanity, "Look it's your choice okay?

"Yes...of course..."

_Of course...It is_.

* * *

"Percival draw back! I'm done analyzing her!"

Percival drew back from fighting Calypso, she breathed heavily. It seemed that the exhaustion was mutual, because Calypso seemed like she couldn't breathe enough air either. Percival wordlessly stood up a little bit more to improve her breathing because her posture was horrible.

Calypso fell onto her knees onto the clear dirt ground, and she kicked up dust with her breath. She occasionally sneezed because of the kickup, but it didn't matter to her, she was retracting air and she was still breathing, that was al that mattered.

Lancelot walked over to the ladies, and he picked up Percival's armor and with a signal from Percival he handed the pieces to her. Again just as wordlessly he helped put her body armor on and screw and clasp some of the bonds together. She couldn't reach them herself because she was slightly(but enough) impaired. Because of the battle, her muscles felt unusually rough and sore. It was strange, she never took a beating like this in was a new alien feeling to her.

"Well that was the most interesting fight I've had in awhile Percival. Thank's for the entertainment."

Percival laughed at that gesture, "Quiet now Calypso, if that's just entertainment you'll be up for a riot next time we cross weapons."

"Rile down Ladies," Lamorak joked, "that was a very violet cat fight you're recovering from sister. You might need to take a break for the rest of the day."

"You wish Lamorak, the work isn't done yet, you're doing the administrative work."

Lamorak groaned, "Are you serious?! UGH, I'm going to come for you one day Percival."

Percival laughed, while Lancelot simply looked at her. However unknown to everyone, Lancelot was going through something.

_What in the world? Why does Percival look different today?_

Lancelot thought more on it while he(quite unknowingly) continued staring at her. He was confused by these feelings brewing around.

_Is it just me, or does Percival somehow look more attractive today then... _

The Lancelot immediately registered what he was thinking, and he shook his head as if those thoughts would rocket out of his ears. This brought the attention of the other knights to Lancelot, mesmerized by his strange behaviour.

"Hey Lancelot! Are you feeling game?"

"Yes I'm fine Gawain, I'm just having strange thoughts."

"You sure? You don't look too hot," Lamorak seemed genuinely concerned.

"No I'm fine," Lancelot added, "I'll meet you in the den."

Immediately after saying that, he left leaving the knights to stew in their astonishment. And in that entire group, there was only one woman who knew what was happening. And that one woman, that one woman who the fall he was going to take and knew everything he was going to do...

She only smiled.

And she sealed her lips.

* * *

"Did you see Lancelot? He was really out of it, you think he's okay?"

"Yes he's just fine," Gawain shrugged, "probably having one of his episodes."

As Gawain put his shoulder armor on his spokes and Percival was finishing polishing her armor, Calypso walked in.

Lamorak snorted at that remark, "Can we talk about how many 'episodes' this man has? I mean how long have we known him?"

"About 7 years yes?"

"Percival," Lamorak shamed with his tone, "that's not what I meant."

Gawain looked at Gawain and pointed at him with a precautionary gesture, "Now look Lamorak, you know that man has a problem. It really wasn't and never was our position to talk about it. Every genius has his problems."

"But on that note Gawain, what exactly is his problem? Calypso might not know."

Calypso glared at him, while Lamorak only smiled. Apparently, the oracle was on Gawain's side. She didn't really want to know.

"Well if she wants to know, she will ask."

"Gawain, lets be realistic... there's only so much she'll be able to tell and we might as well get to know each other. She's going to be here for awhile," Percival said.

Gawain sighed, "Well...that man is manic-depressive."

"He's bipolar?"Calypso was surprised, "No wonder he's really mixed."

"Mixed?"

"His emotions are a little bit... mixed and a little weird to read."

"Well he's somewhat damaged, so... beware, he has a few triggers you'd be better off not pulling."

"SOMEWHAT DAMAGED?!" Lamorak laughed, "SOMEWHAT doesn't even cover it! You might as well cut off his appendages and give him a hole in his head and _that_ wouldn't cover it."

"Silence yourself Lamorak, you never know when he's listening," Galahad warned.

"Pssht, he can take it."

"Like I said, every genius has their problems," Gawain picked something off the floor.

You could feel the idea popping up in Lamorak's head at that moment. "While we're at it, I might as well point them out,"Lamorak smartly said. He slammed the wooden door protecting his equipment, making a large summoning clatter. Once everyone's attention was on him, he first pointed to Gawain.

"Drunkard, blindly emotional,"Lamorak thought, "and also very hotheaded."

You could see Gawain's vein popping even from across the room. And Percival swore she could feel it throbbing with the fierceness of an erupting volcano even so far from him. She opened the door to her storage unit to cover her face, and she prepared for the storm.

"Well is that the way it is," Gawain growled, "I see how it is."

Lamorak laughed.

"Dumb, short minded, scatterbrained, and most of all a bruised bloody ass."

"Bruised and bloody? Where did that come from?"

Suddenly, Gawain immediately jumped on him. Before he could make any physical (damaging) contact with Lamorak's face, Percival and Calypso had stopped him. Even when they pried him off of Lamorak he was sill flailing. They knew he wouldn't hit them, in all of Gawain's years, he had never hit a girl intentionally, and that was going to stay that way.

"JUST LET ME-"

"No! Get..." Percival pushed him one last time.

Gawain rehabilitated from the push, "God... at least me score one on his face."

Once Gawain got up and recuperated himself from that angry fit, Calypso sighed. "Let us continue with this then,"Calypso looked at Galahad.

Galahad seemed to be somewhat hesitant to continue this, but he pointed to Percival.

"Prudent, over cautionary, and most of all... sexually dead."

Percival shot up at that last remark and she slowly turned her vision to Galahad's, "You know Galahad... I could take the first 2... but that last one-"

"But sister, it's somewhat true. When was the last time you ever had a companion much less a good lovemaking?"

"Lamorak!"

"No Gawain," Lamorak said, "you have to hear this."

Percival was silent, "Lamorak... you shouldn't ask questions you already know the answers to." Percival held her arms, "The last relationship I had was years ago... and you know I'm saving myself."

Gawain was glaring at Lamorak strongly, he was sincerely angered that Lamorak would ask a question like that in front of a new recruit. That was something that he would normally hit him for, but he was too distracted by how sad and depressed Percival suddenly became. The woman looked like she was about to cry. Lamorak shouldn't of put her under the scope like that.

"Lamorak, that wasn't very merciful or kind of you."

"Gawain, if I was kind I would still probably still do that."

Gawain thought about that, what Lamorak was suggesting to him was scaring him. But he knew that what Lamorak just did was not good for Percival's mood, and that it was virulent and heartless.

"I don't know if that was helpful to her at all Lamorak you should apologize," Galahad said.

"I frankly refuse to," Lamorak crossed his arms.

Percival's head was down, and she chuckled and she shrugged.

"Its completely fine Lamorak, it didn't hurt at all," she sniffled a little bit, "Umm... I'll be out just..." Percival picked up her bags, "I'll see you all tomorrow."

Everyone in that room watched as she closed her door completely, and she stepped out the door of that little room silently with a sobs erupting from her throat. And with heavy footsteps and eyes, she didn't look back at anyone's face as she walked the long way home.

* * *

**I'm trying to shoot out as fast and as much as I can! Since Im so randomly but sporadically inspired right now, I have no problem with it. Being so inspired like this makes you forget you're even typing it out.**

**I hope its not too early for Percival to cry.**

**I've been listening to some strange music while typing this out: like "Desnudate" by Christina Aguilera. It was a little weird because all the choruses and other parts of the songs she's technically moaning. (It's a sex song, literally its lovemaking fuel. The title is Spanish for "GIT NEKKID") **

**So the whole time, while I'm typing... Im like:**

**"What... in..."**

**I immediately changed songs, I'll have you know that.**

**_Lost and Forgotten Memories_: thanks for the review. I dont think I could every really forget this fic. Because the idea has been stewing in my head for awhile, I cant just wake up one day and say "TODAY IM GOING TO FORGET THAT FANFIC" (POOF)**

**Nah boyy, even if it's sporadic and somewhat inconsistent. I wont be able to completely abandon it. I love that you love it though, I am now giving you an internet hug**

**Thanks!**

**~Blu**


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